


First Meetings

by Galaxxi



Series: ask-joeydrewstudios fics [4]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I Suck At Descriptions Also Titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 06:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12699030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxxi/pseuds/Galaxxi
Summary: How Henry first met his wife, Dianne.[[Do NOT repost to other websites.]]





	First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome welcome! This is a quick lil fic about how Henry meets his wife Dianne in my ask blog's AU, cuz people wanted to see more of her lol. For anyone that doesn't follow the ask blog - I set up this relationship before it was implied Henry might have a wife in-canon, so as far as my AU is concerned Linda is an ex. Hope you enjoy the fic! :)

  Henry, on most days, wouldn't consider himself the type of person to turn down a free lunch. Free food was free food, especially in _this_ economy. Money was tight, and even if his job as an animator paid well he still couldn’t afford to turn down a free meal. The studio he worked at had an overabundance of canned bacon soup that nearly nobody was eating, and it was made free to anyone that _would_ eat it in an effort to get rid of it. As such, his lunch breaks usually consisted of him sitting in the breakroom, downing a few cans and drawing. Though, eating the same thing almost every day for years... well, some days he can't stand to look at the stuff. This sunny spring Tuesday was one of those unusual days. 12:30PM rolled around and he took his sketchbook with him as he got up and walked to the studio exit. The cool, crisp air that greeted him as he opened the front doors was refreshing; it was a pleasant change from the smoke and ink-fume filled air he was far too used to.

  While his favorite sandwich shop was only a five minute walk from the studio, he still kept a quick pace. He only had an hour, and he wanted to enjoy as much of it as possible. He held his sketchbook firmly under his left arm as he walked quickly along the crowded city sidewalks, sometimes throwing the occasional glance to the street where cars drove by. If the place wasn't already so close to the studio and he wasn't in need of exercise, he'd probably be in the traffic himself.

  A bell chimed as he opened the door to the small corner shop. The place was never terribly busy, and somehow his favorite booth was always free. The booth was perfectly in the middle of the row that stretched along the windows in the front. He sat down, opened his sketchbook to a new page, and reached for the pencil he always kept behind his ear-

  ...only to find, it was missing. Reaching into his sweater he found the one he kept in his dress shirt pocket was absent as well. Pencils falling from behind his ear when he wore glasses was a normal occurrence. He had _no idea_ where the other one went.

  He sighed, and just as he did a waitress conveniently appeared by his table. Before she could deliver her usual welcoming line, he cut in.

  "You wouldn't happen to have a spare pencil, would you?"

  The waitress, who was named Dianne according to her name tag, seemed taken aback for a brief moment. That was not the response she was expecting, she felt like she'd been running on autopilot for the past hour and people weren't supposed to speak before she did. As she came back to her senses, the question registered in her mind. Did she have a spare pencil? Of course she had spares. She didn't have time to sit around sharpening pencils every time they broke while she wrote orders, so she kept a few on her at all times for when the inevitable happened. She retrieved one from her light-blue uniform's skirt pocket and held it out for him with a smile.

  "Thank you." He nodded, accepting it.

  "Now, what can I get for you?"

 

   A half hour later, he'd already filled a page with this Dianne woman. He meant to do one simple sketch to leave with her and the pencil he borrowed as a way to say thanks, but as it turns out she was quite beautiful and quite fun to draw. As discreetly as he could (which, for the record, was not very) he watched her take orders and walk to and from the kitchen. Their gazes met a few times and every time he looked away more frantically, hoping not to give her the wrong idea. If he didn't care, he could stare into her enchanting green eyes all day, or watch her almost constantly brush a stray lock of medium-brown hair behind her ear only for it to float back in front of her face seconds later. It was rather endearing.

  Henry had been so captivated by drawing he nearly forgot he was on lunch break, and he'd been neglecting his turkey sandwich. According to his watch, he had twenty minutes left before he would have to return to the studio. Pushing his sketchbook aside he turned his attention back to his food, and watched the world outside the window as he ate. People passed by, cars drove nearly bumper-to-bumper down the street, and behind him he could hear the ambiance of the cozy little restaurant. There were a few people around him chatting among themselves, and clatter from the kitchen that funneled through the small window behind the counter. This was one of his favorite places in the city, if he was honest. If he didn't have to return to the studio soon he would keep ordering sandwiches and drawing for as long as he could. The only way it could get any better in this moment would be if it started to rain.

  "So you were staring at me so you could... _draw me?"_

  He froze at the voice he recognized as the waitress coming from behind him. Turning slowly he saw she was holding his sketchbook and leaning on the booth's seat. Realizing she mentioned how he had been staring, his eyes widened and he felt himself turn bright red. With the way she looked at the resulting page and smiled though, he figured she didn't exactly mind.

  "Yeah, you're a really good model."

  "Well, you're a really good artist." She responded with a chuckle.

  "Oh, thank you."

  He almost had a heart attack when, without taking her gaze from his sketchbook, she took a seat across from him in the booth. He wasn't sure if he was happy about this or not.

  "Would you mind if I...?" She looked up at him as she went to turn the page. Oh god, she wanted to _look through_ the thing. There was nothing strange or embarrassing in this particular book, only life drawings like the page she'd been fawning over, but he still felt a little uneasy about letting her thumb through it.

  "No, not at all. Go right ahead." He noticed he'd been bouncing his leg, which he knew he hadn't been doing until she started talking to him. With every page she turned she only seemed to be more amazed.

  "I'd like to correct my earlier statement, you're an _amazing_ artist, Mr...?"

  She was looking at him again. He was briefly lost in her gaze before realizing he was just asked a question. _Idiot,_ he hissed in his head.

  "Henry!" He offered a handshake. "Henry Batim."

  She shook his hand.

  "That's... an _interesting_ last name. French?"

  "I'm not too sure, actually. You'd think with as often as I'm asked that I would have looked into it by now." He nervously laughed. "And you are?"

  "Dianne Collins." She smiled now, smiled at _him_... and he couldn't help but smile back.

  "Nice to meet you, Dianne."

  "Nice to meet you too." She let go of his hand before he let go of hers, and she went back to flipping through the sketchbook.

  "So how long have you been drawing?"

  "Oh, about... Always? I can't remember a time in my life where I _wasn't_ drawing."

  "It certainly shows, these are incredible. I could never get the hang of drawing, nothing ever came out right. _You,_ on the other hand..."

  "Well, it all comes with practice. If you think those are good, you should see the stuff I actually put effort into." Did he sound modest or conceited? _'Look at me, apparently my dumb sketches look magnificent, I bet if I showed you my_ finished _works you'd-'_

  "Really? What kind of things do you draw?"

  "Anything that catches my interest. Landscapes, portraits..." _'Would she be impressed if I told her I drew cartoons for a living?'_

  "That sounds wonderful, I'd love to see them some time."

  "I'm... free after work, at six. Maybe we could get dinner and I could show you more?"

  "Sounds fun, Henry. Where do you work?"

  "Just down the street, you know where Joey Drew Studios is?"

  "You work for Joey Drew, making those little cartoons?" She asked. He nodded and held his breath.

  "That's amazing!" She cheered. He sighed, relieved. "You _have_ to tell me how you came to work at _Joey Drew Studios_ of all places tonight."

  "Dinner, art, and a history lesson? Sounds like a date."

  She closed his sketchbook and handed it back to him. Their fingers brushed against each other as he took it, and his heart skipped a beat.

  "See you at the studio doors around six, then." She said, getting out of the booth and heading back to the kitchen.

  "See you then!" He called back to her. Before closing the kitchen door they shared one more smile as she waved at him and he waved back. After the door swung shut he looked down at his sketchbook in front of him, his mind already swarming with thoughts about what happened and the fact that he apparently had a date tonight.

  _...Wait, he had a date now?_


End file.
